An Unwavering Flame
by Rhien Elleth
Summary: Story exploring life in the mob for Elizabeth/Jason w/some Sonny/Carly. WIP. Rated R for language, violence, sexual references. May change to NC-17 in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: The characters and setting belong to someone at ABC, I'm sure, definitely not me. Any mistakes or omissions are my fault entirely.

Story: This is set about a year after current events on the show. It deals mostly with Jason/Elizabeth with some Sonny/Carly, but the story is not just romance. It delves into some of the business dealings Sonny has, and the type of life this invariably leads to for all of the characters. Other PC residents may make appearances. 

Chapter 1

The night was overcast and mist drenched, one of those inky black autumn evenings so common after September. No hint of star or moonlight illuminated those streets lacking artificial lighting, and on the docks of the Port Charles waterfront, fog rolling in off the water covered everything in a light haze that made objects and people disappear after ten paces. 

It was a perfect night for business. 

Thibault Donetaro waited on the pier with an almost unnatural stillness. The impenetrable black of the night didn't phase him, and nor did the fog. The dark gray of the long wool trench coat he wore blended in with his surroundings seamlessly, so one would have to look carefully indeed to notice the outline of his figure. The men accompanying him were not so at ease, and their restless shifting more than anything else gave away his presence. They searched the fog shrouded docks furtively, hands poised near the guns they wore in shoulder holsters beneath their jackets. They were good men, good bodyguards, but they were also in unfamiliar territory, and unhappy with it. Thibault understood. 

Still, he counted the number of times Gilen scuffed his shoes as he moved about, and Arturo's constant coughing with the cold of the night air made his lips thin disapprovingly. He would speak with them later, when they were alone. Even such a minor lack of control was not to be tolerated in those under his command. The Donetaros ran a tight ship, especially when not on their home turf. Besides, it was inexcusable that both men remained unaware of the visitor who now stood a few feet away in the fog, just outside of visual range. 

Thibault lifted a hand to his glasses, calmly removing them as he pulled a white silk handkerchief from his pocket. It was the first actual movement he'd made in twenty minutes, the entire time he and his entourage had been waiting.

"You're late," he said into the fog, startling his two companions as he began to clean his lenses of the light mist which now coated them. More than visual perception was necessary in a business like this. _I'll have to tell father that Gilen and Arturo are unacceptable,_ he thought with a mental sigh. _He'll be unhappy with my report._ He replaced the small, gold wire spectacles back onto his face just as their visitor stepped forward. "It is unlike Mr. Corinthos," he continued, "not to anticipate an early arrival and make arrangements for such an eventuality." 

Jason Morgan frowned. He didn't like the Donetaros much. He never had. They were good business partners for Sonny's overseas ventures, and as yet every deal made with them had gone smoothly. Still, something about them rubbed him the wrong way. When he figured out what it was, he would decide what needed to be done about it.

"Mr. Corinthos was unavoidably detained," he said quietly. "His wife went into labor just as he was preparing to come meet you. I'm sure you understand."

Of course; if there was one thing widely known about Sonny Corinthos, it was the importance he placed on family. In fact, the Donetaros shared that trait. Most of the old Italian families did. Thibault frowned, but finally nodded.

"Yes, of course," he said. "I hope all is well with Mr. Corinthos and his family. I'm sure I speak for my father as well when I extend my congratulations to him."

Jason nodded slightly, to show he'd heard the statement and would pass it on to Sonny, and then he extended his hand back towards the pier entrance.

"I have a car waiting to take you to your hotel, Mr. Donetaro." That was all. Jason didn't waste his breath on the amenities; no pampering, no assurances of a pleasant stay, or questions regarding the comfort of the journey here. 

But then, Thibault recalled, Jason Morgan had always been a man of few words. He was Corinthos' lieutenant. From his mouth came orders that were to be followed as if they came from Sonny himself; much, Thibault supposed, as his own words were heeded among his father's men. Morgan took care of the things Sonny Corinthos trusted no one else to do, or the things he trusted no one else to keep silent about. He greeted Thibault in Sonny's place as a measure of respect for the Donetaro family. The presence of such a man in this business meant only one of two things: you were being honored, or eliminated. He had no doubt which was the case today. He hoped never to have to face the other. Such a confrontation between them would mean the dissolution of a very profitable business arrangement, and if there was one thing his father placed above family in his concerns, it was profit. 

"Then let us depart," he said, with a wry smile for the other man. Jason did not respond in kind. "The night is cold, and damp, and I've waited out in it long enough."

Jason Morgan led the Donetaro party off the pier and to the car he had waiting. His motorcycle was parked nearby; he had no desire to ride in an enclosed vehicle with a man he didn't like, much less trust completely. On a night like this, he was wearing full leathers for the ride. They might not offer much protection in the event of an accident, but they were better than jeans and skin. Elizabeth had insisted, and Jason couldn't refuse her. She worried about him. It was ironic, actually. She knew enough about the business, enough about what he did, what he was, to realize that he might not come home someday. Yet the things he did for Sonny didn't concern her as much as a motorcycle ride on a foggy night, over damp, slick roads. 

She accepted, more than anyone else ever had, who and what he was. She didn't question it. She never tried to change him. It was, he reflected, one of the things that made Elizabeth Webber so special to him. Other people might hate him; many residents of Port Charles condemned him for what he was, as they condemned Sonny. But not her. 

Even the thought tugged a reluctant smile to his lips as he nodded to Sonny's driver, Julian. Thibault and his two companions would be staying at one of the finer hotels in town, near Sonny's penthouse home. Once, they might have stayed at the spare apartment in the penthouse, but that was Jason's home, now, and had been for the past year. Besides, Jason knew without a doubt that Sonny wouldn't want business _too_ near at hand when he got Carly and the new baby home from the hospital. He looked at Thibault, no trace of a smile curving his lips now. His eyes were hard and cold, as all of Sonny's business associates had come to expect.

"Mr. Cornithos has arranged a very nice hotel suite for you. He regrets the delay, but asked me to convey to you that business will be conducted after his son is born. Enjoy your evening." 

He nodded once more to Julian before turning away and disappearing into the fog. Thibault had opened his mouth to speak, but Jason honestly didn't care what the other man might have said. Carly was in labor; there was no room for argument or discussion as far as Sonny was concerned, and Jason agreed. If Donetaro felt differently, that was too bad. Julian was on hand now to conduct the more ingratiating welcome. He was much more congenial than Jason by nature, and by the time he had them settled at their hotel, they'd be smiling and relaxed. It was a talent of Julian's, really, putting people at ease. Sonny had chosen him for this task with that in mind. 

Jason could only think, _better him than me._ He started his bike and headed back to the hospital. 

***

Elizabeth was waiting for him. She stood when she saw him exit the elevator, her face lit with a radiant smile. He was a bit surprised to find her in the waiting area, instead of in the delivery room with Carly. Despite the early antagonism between the two women, the last year had brought them closer together with the common bond they shared: their love for the dangerous men in their lives. Both Carly and Elizabeth knew and accepted the nature of Sonny's work, and therefore Jason's as well. 

"How is she?" he asked as soon as he reached her. She automatically took one of his hands between hers, warming flesh that was cold despite the gloves he wore when riding. She was wearing jeans and a dark green sweater, her jacket tossed over one of the chairs beside her purse. Her smile widened slightly.

"Fine. Bobbi says things are going smoothly, and that second births are usually a lot easier than the first." She glanced behind them, toward the hospital room that housed the expectant mother. "Sonny's with her. It would be nice if you didn't have to disturb them right away."

She looked back at Jason, a question in her eyes. 

"It's ok," he said. "I can wait to give Sonny my report. Donetaro isn't going anywhere for awhile."

He casually put an arm around her waist, leading her back to the cushioned chairs in the waiting area. He and Elizabeth had not always had such an easy relationship. It was only in the last eight months or so that things between them had finally started to smooth out. In the beginning, he'd been too worried about drawing her into the line of fire. Even as merely his friend, she'd been hurt because of him, because of his business. But Elizabeth Webber was nothing if not stubborn, and she'd never given up on him, even when he'd done everything in his power to push her away. And then, there was the fact that he _couldn't _stay away from her. She drew him like a moth to a flame, inexorably, and with a kind of deep rooted need that overrode even his own rational objections. He knew his life was dangerous. He knew that made _her _life dangerous. But that knowledge meant nothing to the all consuming love he felt. He couldn't stay away. He couldn't not hear her voice, or see her face, or feel her touch. Even now, his fingertips tingled where they stroked her palm. 

They sat side by side, hands clasped together between them. Elizabeth turned, studying his face to judge his mood. Sometimes business went badly, and it was hard to reach Jason, then. He would come back to the penthouse apartment they shared with his feelings closed off, his eyes and face remote, even to her. She knew it was because he didn't want to touch her with that part of his life. But she also knew that even that cold, emotionless seeming stranger was Jason, and she wouldn't allow him to close her out. Not now. Not ever. 

But tonight things seemed to have gone well. He was quick with a smile for her when she turned her head, and his fingers stroked her palm in a way that sent tiny tremors down her spine.

"So, how long does it take to deliver a baby?" he asked quietly. She could see the glint in his blue eyes, and knew what he was thinking. They were supposed to have had dinner tonight, just the two of them. A romantic little interlude that would be their first in too long. But, of course, life had intervened. 

"I can take quite awhile," Elizabeth said, not even trying to hide her amusement. "At least a few hours."

"A few hours, huh?" Jason was quiet again, thinking, Elizabeth knew. She lifted their intertwined hands to her lips, brushing them lightly over his skin. 

"I'm sure we could slip away so you could…change into something more comfortable than your leathers." Her eyes laughed at him. "We can be back before she delivers."

She could see the wheels turning in his mind, his light blue eyes darkening slightly in a familiar way as they watched her, before flicking to look at the closed hospital room door.

"Let me talk to Sonny," he said softly, disentangling his hand and stroking the side of her face with it in a quick movement she barely felt, before he stood and crossed the waiting area.

She watched him disappear into the room with amusement, and a tingle of anticipation. Jason always had that effect on her, and it had been too long since they'd spent an evening together. Bobbi would call, she knew, if anything developed, and Sonny had already urged her once to go home. The doctor would only allow so many people in the delivery room, he'd said, and what was the sense of waiting at the hospital, when the penthouse was mere minutes away? He knew, too, how much she'd been looking forward to this evening. So did Carly. The other woman had laughed when she'd called to tell Elizabeth that her water had broken. 

"Trust my son," she'd said, "to have the same great sense of timing as his mother!" 

When Jason came out a few moments later, Elizabeth already had her coat on. They walked to the elevator together, Jason's hand on her shoulder. He was always touching her. She loved that about him, as if he couldn't stand being in her presence without some form of physical contact. As if his hands couldn't help themselves. She almost laughed. Not that she was any better. She'd spent so long denying her feelings for Jason, that now they were together, it was as if she was constantly reassuring herself of the reality of it all. She loved nothing better than to ride with him on his bike, her arms wrapped around his narrow waist…well, maybe there was _one _thing she liked better. 

She grinned up at him mischievously as the elevator doors closed, and he slowly smiled back. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter2

"Philip Morgan Corinthos," said Carly softly as she carefully handed her newborn son into Elizabeth's arms. "Sonny and I thought it would be too confusing to have two Jasons around, but we wanted to name him after our best friend." Her face was alight with the luminescent glow of new motherhood. 

"I think it's wonderful," Elizabeth said, lightly touching the baby's tiny, fragile fingers as he curled them into little fists and beat the air with them. He stared up at her with a crinkled face, his blue eyes filling with unshed tears as yet another stranger took him from his mother's more familiar embrace. Unable to resist, she cooed at him, making the unintelligible noises most adults used with infants. "He's beautiful, Carly."

Mrs. Sonny Corinthos watched Elizabeth carefully. Something had been bothering the other young woman lately, and Carly had puzzled over it before Philip's labor had interrupted her musings. She thought she might know what it was, but didn't want to say anything until she was sure, or Elizabeth confided in her. Or Jason. Carly had learned her lesson a long time ago when it came to interfering with their relationship. She loved Jason, and she would restrain her usual impulse to meddle only because of that affection. Still, a little prodding wouldn't hurt. 

"Jason went with Sonny to visit Thibault Donetaro?" she asked, casually smoothing her hands over the blanket she had wrapped around her. It was good to be home, and not in a hospital bed. 

"Yes," Elizabeth said, without looking up from the baby. "He said they might be late."

Carly tried to detect any censure in Elizabeth's voice, but found none. She frowned.

"Has business kept him away a lot, lately?" she asked. "I know Sonny's been gone a lot, and it's been hard to be patient, especially when the baby was due any day. I thought the two of you had been planning a trip…"

"Oh, we were – I mean are," Elizabeth said, finally looking up. "Jason promised me a long time ago that he'd take me to Italy." She smiled. "We were going to go in the fall, but then this whole contract renewal with the Donetaros came up, and we've rescheduled for this spring." She looked happy, but Carly noticed something in the way she held herself, in the tensing of her shoulders, that set off warning bells.

"Is there a problem with spring, now?" she asked. Elizabeth slid her gaze away, looking down at Philip again.

"No, no problem," she said. Carly wasn't convinced. She'd tried, really tried, to restrain herself. Jason couldn't fault her, surely. It was only his best interests she was looking out for, after all. Besides, being a man, he probably didn't even realize yet that something was wrong. It took a woman's intuition to know these things.

"So, still no commitment from him, hmm?" she asked. Subtlety wasn't one of Carly's strong points. Elizabeth looked up, startled. She controlled her expression almost immediately, but not quickly enough to avoid Carly's discerning gaze. "You should talk to him about it, Elizabeth." She kept her voice gentle, so the suggestion might not seem too intrusive. "Especially if it's becoming a problem for you. Jason is…not always the most observant guy I know when it comes to these things. But he _is_ observant enough that he's going to figure it out on his own pretty soon. And he'll wonder why you didn't say anything."

Her expression guarded, Elizabeth handed Philip back to Carly. 

"It's nothing, Carly. Jason and I are fine, really." 

Amused and a bit exasperated, Carly smiled down into Philip's baby blue eyes, and abandoned all attempts at tact.

"So, the fact that he still hasn't asked you to marry him doesn't bother you, even though you're carrying his child?"

She looked up when the silence had stretched on for too long, and found Elizabeth staring at her with wide eyes, her naturally pale skin ghostly white. She looked like she was about to faint. 

"Oh, for heaven's sake, sit down!" Elizabeth slowly sank into a chair across from the divan Carly was stretched out on. "It isn't as if you could have hid it forever. It just happens that a woman, like me, who's been through pregnancy a couple of times, notices little things that other people might not. You haven't been feeling well lately, have you? Haven't been able to eat much? Tired all of the time? Don't worry, that mostly passes after your first trimester." She paused, glancing up at Elizabeth's face. "Liz, I'm not going to tell anyone. Anyway, I only knew for sure when I watched you holding Philip. You got that look on your face, like you were trying to remember every little detail. And I knew."

Elizabeth folded her hands together, her face still pale and worried.

"Please, Carly, don't say anything to _anyone._ I'll tell Jason, I will, it's just…" She trailed off, but Carly knew what she'd been going to say.

"You want him to propose, but because he loves you and wants to marry you, not because you're pregnant."

Elizabeth nodded. "This wasn't planned. It just happened, and the last thing I want is to make Jason feel trapped into something. It wouldn't be right for either one of us."

"Elizabeth," said Carly gently, "you never saw Jason with Michael right after he was born, when Jason was playing the role of father. He will be such a great father, that you'll be amazed. He has so much love within him to give. He won't feel trapped; he'll be ecstatic." 

Elizabeth opened her mouth to say something, but Carly held up a hand to forestall her.

"Don't _worry_. I won't say anything. Jason should hear it from you. But you need to decide how long you're going to wait before telling him. The longer you put it off, the bigger the chance that he'll figure it out on his own. You don't want that complication."

Elizabeth didn't say anything, and for once she didn't argue with Carly's advice. 

***

"Gregori Lanzo," said Thibault Donetaro, tossing a paper clipped folder to Sonny, "is becoming a problem that will have to dealt with." His two bodyguards stood in semi relaxed postures at corners of the hotel suite, hands folded professionally before them, watching Jason and the discreet guard who stood behind Morgan and Corinthos. Not that any trouble was expected between the two business partners, but men like Arturo and Gilen were paid to be alert.

Sonny flipped open the folder and quickly scanned through the pages of notes and pictures inside. He held it intentionally so that Jason could read with him, then handed the dossier over to the other man.

"So?" he said dismissively, "that should be your problem to take care of. He's on your soil, not mine."

"Ah, yes, but not anymore, we believe. He appeared on the scene rather suddenly about six months ago, not really doing anything overt, but meddling in our affairs just enough to be an irritant. Just enough for us to notice the name, and count the number of times it was mentioned during business." Thibault paused, adjusting his glasses in a gesture so carefully controlled, it had to be a deliberate movement. Every move he made was deliberate and calculated. Jason took note of them all, sure that Thibault wanted him to. Almost as if the other man were testing him on some level. "Often enough for my father to order him warned off. The first time, he sent men like these," he jerked a thumb toward Arturo, "and they never came back to report in. As you can imagine, my father was rather…irate. He replaced them in the roster, but sent me next."

Thibault stopped, crossing over to the small bar and pouring himself a soda water. He never drank; it dulled the senses. 

"And?" asked Sonny, blinking slightly in irritation. He liked Thibault's father, Faviano Donetaro, slightly better than he liked Thibault, mostly because the older man never played any word games. He said what he meant, when he meant it, and angry or happy, you knew exactly where you stood. Thibault's confidence bordered on cockiness; Sonny wouldn't have accepted that attitude, not even in his own son. 

"And he wasn't there. I did some searching, and found he'd left Italy for America. I have a reasonable belief that he'll show up here, sooner or later."

"Why is that?" asked Jason, aware of Sonny's growing intolerance and trying to diffuse it before anything detrimental was said. Sonny could complain of Thibault's behavior later, and if necessary, to the young man's father. Faviano shared a good relationship with Sonny, and it wouldn't be the first time he'd asked Corinthos about his son's attitude in business. The old man was testing the young, to find out, presumably, if he would be leaving his business in good hands with his death. 

"Because, apparently, once upon a time, he knew your father. And loathed him." Thibault smiled, and shrugged. "You know how these old Italian feuds are – they never die out, but just keep building and building with each subsequent generation. My father and I believe that Gregori meddled with us merely to find out the extent of our dealings with you. I am here to warn you, and to help you deal with the problem, if you wish." His eyes moved to Jason. "Unless you feel your own resources can handle it."

Sonny was shocked, but didn't show it. He couldn't remember his father ever dealing with any family by the name of Lanzo, and he had detailed information on _all_ of his family's past business. Mike had made sure of that. But Thibault didn't need to know that. He'd contact Faviano directly, to verify everything the son was saying now. He glanced over at Jason, not surprised to see him watching Thibault with his characteristic glacial expression, the one that said, 'step out of line and I'll kill you'. No, he didn't like Thibault much, either.

"Thank-you," said Sonny graciously, turning back to Thibault. "But we can handle it. Tell your father I appreciate the offer, but I'm sure he can use you back home."

Thibault smiled and nodded, unsurprised. "As you wish," he said.

Sonny and Jason left soon after.

"You don't like him, hmm?" said Sonny as soon as they were safely ensconced in his car together. Jason frowned, and shook his head.

"No. I don't trust him. I don't want to work beside someone I'd always be watching my back around. I think we'd better prepare to dissolve this business arrangement when the father dies. The son will double cross us if he sees an advantage in it."

"I agree. Do some digging. Find out everything you can on this Gregori guy that isn't listed in that file." Sonny looked out the window as the car moved through the city. "I'm going to talk to my father."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

A private jet said many things about the man who owned it. Money, power, convenience, luxury, control. All of these characteristics factored into a personality who would drop $21.8 million on a single mode of transportation, and not even blink doing it. A lesser man might have settled for a Learjet -- smaller, less roomy, certainly without the spacious, fully stocked bar and galley – but Gregori had never believed in doing things by halves. He purchased the most comfortable, luxurious, and elite private jet he could lay hands to, and had owned the Bombardier Challenger 604 for a little less than a year. But then, he hadn't really needed it until then. He hadn't been ready to move forward with his plans yet.

Now, he was. 

He sat casually in one of the cushy leather chairs of the cabin, sipping on a glass of forty year old scotch as he reviewed files he'd already memorized. _Michael Corinthos Jr., a.k.a. Sonny Corinthos. _Gregori stared contemplatively at the name, a slight frown touching his lips. A businessman with his fingers in every pie along the eastern seaboard, and a few overseas. Son of Cecilia D'Antoni and Michael _Corbin_. He almost chuckled at that. Grandson of Alicia and Marcelo Corinthos. 

"Changed your name, did you old boy? Didn't like the family biz, perhaps?" He shook his head, well and truly amused. "But the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it? _Come il figlio simile a padre._ Your son is more like you, my old friend, than you ever expected him to be." And that, thought Gregori Lanzo, was poetic justice if ever there was. 

He flipped through pages in the thick file, allowing names he'd become very familiar with over the past months to jump out at him. _Carly Corinthos. Michael Corinthos Jr. II. Courtney Quartermaine. Jason Morgan. Elizabeth Webber. _Added to that list was a recent addition phoned into him less than an hour before, and penned in his own sleek hand at the bottom of the page detailing the Corinthos family. _Philip Morgan Corinthos. _He took another sip of scotch, enjoying the feel of the smooth malt sliding down his throat. Yes, all of the players were positioned on the board. It only awaited his opening move.

He was looking forward to making it.

***

Jason eased into the penthouse quietly, hoping not to wake Elizabeth. It was late, or early, depending on your perspective, and he'd meant to be home hours earlier. Business had other ideas. He'd called to let her know, but Elizabeth hadn't been home, or if she had, hadn't answered. She did that sometimes when she was lost in the muse of her art. He just hoped she'd taken his advice, and not waited up for him too long. She needed some good, solid sleep.

She'd been trying to hide it from him, but he knew she hadn't felt well lately. Her appetite was off, she was tired and listless a lot of the time, and she wasn't sleeping well. He thought she'd even been sick a time or two, but she'd turned evasive when he questioned her about it. He was letting it slide for the moment, but a couple of more days and he'd insist she see a doctor. He wasn't really worried – yet – but much longer and he would be. 

He made sure the door shut soundlessly behind him, and then shrugged out of his leather jacket. The house was dark and silent, with one of the windows cracked to let in a crisp fall breeze. He slipped off his shoes, moving quietly through the living room to the bedroom, and stopped suddenly in the doorway, struck still. It was in moments such as this that he wished, fervently, for even a small portion of Elizabeth's talent as an artist, so that he might capture the picture before him forever. Instead, he tried to commit it to memory.

Moonlight from the window slanted across the bed, illuminating Elizabeth's face, her soft, creamy skin surrounded by the chocolate and cinnamon cloud of her hair. She almost seemed to glow, her skin translucent, like the old ivory china his grandmother still kept. She looked relaxed and at peace, and…healthy. The thought relieved him a bit. Maybe she was finally feeling better. She lay with her legs tangled in the green and gold sheets of their bed, a strap of the thin, white cotton nightshirt she preferred slipping from her shoulder. He moved forward without being consciously aware of it, his finger lightly tracing her skin as he gently pulled the strap back into place. She smiled slightly in her sleep. Aware of him, on some subconscious level.

On another night, Jason might have been tempted to wake her with a kiss. But tonight he enjoyed just watching her sleep in his bed. His bed. His woman. It filled him with a warm feeling to think of her so; protective, proud, and humbled, all at the same time, that she would choose to be with him. Despite his lifestyle; despite everything. 

He knelt down, so that he could look into her face at eye level, and lightly fingered a strand of her hair. "I love you, Elizabeth," he said softly. She didn't stir, didn't wake, and he smiled. 

She probably didn't expect him to remember, but their first anniversary together was fast approaching. He wanted her completely well by then, the better to enjoy the special night he had planned to celebrate it. He'd already promised himself that business wouldn't interfere. Not this time, damn it. He sighed, hoping this Lanzo thing was less serious than Donetaro was making it out to be. The last thing any of them needed right now was some old feud surfacing against Sonny.

Determinedly, he pushed all such thoughts from his mind, trying to recapture the purity of that first moment he'd stood watching Elizabeth in the doorway. But a cloud moved over the moon, obscuring his view of her as the shadows of the room fell back across the bed. Unfortunately, unable to banish business entirely from his consciousness, Jason quickly changed for bed and slipped under the covers beside Elizabeth. He pulled her toward him, stroking a hand down her arm. She snuggled against him in her sleep, sighing slightly as her body made contact with his. 

"Jason?" she mumbled, still half asleep, but awake enough to realize he'd just come home. 

"Shh, go back to sleep, Elizabeth." His lips pressed against her brow briefly. "I didn't mean to wake you."

"Everything ok?" she asked. It was almost a ritual by now. He came home from any one of the myriad things he did for Sonny, and she asked him if everything was ok. He never lied to her. He might, at times, not tell her what was going on, or why things weren't ok, but he never lied about business to Elizabeth. To his way of thinking, false reassurances could get her killed. There were reasons, good reasons, he'd taught her to use a gun and insisted she carry one with her at all times.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Everything's ok."

"S'good." She was already drifting back into deeper sleep. 

For a long while, Jason lay awake in the darkness holding her, and praying that things would stay that way.

***

Mike Corbin got home late most nights. That was the type of schedule you suffered when you operated a bar – definitely not bankers' hours. He popped open the fridge and pulled out a carton of leftover chinese food for dinner, a beer to wash it down. His mind was on his children, his newest grandson. He'd meant to go by Sonny's today to see little Philip, but hadn't been able to manage it.

__

I'll stop by tomorrow, he thought, _bring a little gift for Carly and the baby. One for Michael._ Didn't want the oldest grandson to get jealous of all the attention showered on the newest. Besides, Mike loved bringing his grandchildren gifts. He loved being a grandfather, period. He hoped he was better at it than he had been a father.

He didn't notice the blinking light on his answering machine until he was done eating and almost ready for bed. Stifling a yawn, he pushed the play button, wondering if it was Carly berating him for not coming by. To his surprise, his son's voice was the one recorded on the machine. Sonny didn't often call his father.

"Mike, I need to talk to you as soon as you get this message. I've got a problem that's come up, and the name of the problem might be one you're familiar with. Come see me." There was a muffled sound on the background, the soft buzz of voices too low and far away for the answering machine to pick up. Then Sonny's voice was back, this time less clipped, less business like, but more beleaguered. "And stop by for Carly and the new baby. We'd love to see you." 

Mike smiled. Carly had insisted on that last part, that was obvious. Well, Mike was trying to make up for his missing years as Sonny's father. He could only hope that in some small way, he was succeeding. He'd set the alarm for morning hours rather than early afternoon, and go see what help he could be to his son.


End file.
